


The Coven

by Nunchi_Writes



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood and Violence, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Slavery, Swearing, Vampires, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-09-23 15:29:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nunchi_Writes/pseuds/Nunchi_Writes
Summary: “You belong to me now.” Your breathing halted as his emotionless, honeyed voice reached your ears. “And I trust you know what that means…”Of course you knew what that meant.You were now the property of one of the Coven.And your life from this point forward was going to be a hellish nightmare.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of abuse and sexual abuse

You were barely breathing- a lifeless shell of a human being, left to stain the stone floors with your blood and tears. 

 

Wrists and ankles bound. Gagged. Blindfolded. 

 

The only sense you were spared amidst the murky darkness of the cellar was your hearing. Your ears were met with the soft, all-too-familiar rasps and muffled cries that came from your fellow female captives. None of the others were bound like you were, however. You knew that they wanted to comfort you, to free the itchy bindings from your raw skin. But you were painfully familiar with the consequences they would face if any one of them interfered. You knew how this was going to work, just as it did at any of the town’s other whorehouses.

You knew you only had yourself to blame, however. You were the essence of a stubborn soul, and now, you would face the consequences that came with it. It was your own fault for refusing to let your fire be distinguished so easily. Although they should have known that you were the one who never truly lost all of your fighting spirit, deep down you recognized that you should have kept your mouth shut, just like the rest of them. But you had been  _so disgusted_ -

 

The metal hinges of the thick, wooden door groaned and creaked as it began to open, a change in light visible through your blindfold. While your vision was still impaired, you could make out two silhouettes that stood, leering over you, at the entrance to the cellar.

 

“We’ve prepared her just like you asked, my lord.” The weasel-like voice of your handler sounded uncomfortably close to you, causing you to instinctively clench your teeth.

 

_‘My lord’… Why would he refer to a regular client-_

Your heart rate quickened alarmingly before you could control it.

 

“She hasn’t had food or water in twenty-four hours, and I’ve made sure potential clients and buyers have kept their hands off- no one has touched her, just as you requested.”

 

You squinted, barely being able to make out the hunched-over figure of your handler. But next to him stood the other man, and even from laying on the ground several feet away from him, his aura absolutely terrified you, demanding respect and obedience.

 

“Good.” A much deeper voice sounded, and your breath hitched as the gravity of your predicament began to escalate quickly. 

That voice.

 

A voice you had prayed to God you would never hear again.

 

A prayer sent in vain.

 

The sound of boots softly clicking against the stone floor sent your pulse into overdrive, but you remained too weak, too frozen in terror to move away.

 

“If she’s as feisty and as untamable as you’ve claimed she is, then our deal will be honored, and I will lift the bounty on your head.”

 

The familiar deep voice sent a chill from the base of your neck down to your toes. He was standing right above you, his gaze sending your body into a state of unadulterated fear even with the blindfold on. You trembled beneath him, finally becoming aware of your fate.

 

You winced as you felt a cold hand press against the small of your back, guiding you to sit up. You complied, too afraid to respond any other way. The next thing you knew, a painful, blinding white light hit your eyes as the blindfold was skillfully untied from the back of your head. As your gaze readjusted, your vision slowly shifted into focus. The details of the man’s face were becoming clearer.

 

A glowing, orange pair of eyes bore into your own. A pair of eyes that you hoped never to stare into again.

 

A pair of eyes belonging to Kim Jongdae, himself.

 

His cold, unemotional stare revealed no intent, and no motive. In this moment, you were at his complete and total mercy.

 

He kept one hand sturdily planted on the small of your back, supporting you, as the other reached up to firmly grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze full-force.

 

Today was the inevitable day you prayed would never come. But more so than that, it was the day that reached far beyond your worst nightmares.

 

“You  _belong_ to  _me_ now.” Your breathing halted as his emotionless, honeyed voice reached your ears. “And I trust you know what that means…”

 

Of course you knew what that meant.

 

You were now the property of one of the Coven.

 

And your life from this point forward was going to be a hellish nightmare.

 

* * *

 

 

_The Coven._

 

Although they were but mere rumors to foreigners, the residents of the town of  _Ebonmire_  would attest to the fact that they were hell’s demons incarnate. An encounter with a member of the Coven meant an encounter with the devil himself.

 

That is, if you lived to tell about it.

 

There were twelve in total, all residing at the top of the hill a few miles away from the town that remained under their direct control. They instilled an irreplaceable sense of fear within the inhabitants of  _Ebonmire_. The mere presence of one of the Coven demanded obedience, and their will was law.

 

They killed in the night when it fulfilled their unquenchable bloodlust, took women into their beds whenever it suited their ravenous libido, and put a violent end to rebellion before it ever began.

 

To the occupants of that isolated ghost town, concealed and hidden far away within the dreary bush of the mountain, life was about  _fear_.

 

To the occupants of  _Ebonmire_ -

 

Defiance was death. Submission was essential to survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Nunchi here to report that WE’RE DOING IT!! It may take some time, but our collaboration is official! I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now, and when I spouted it off, my beautiful compatriot suggested we write it together and I was like YASSSSS~ I’m planning this series to be rather intense, and now that Shauna’s here, there may be some sexual situations, I’ll leave those bits to her ^^” I hope you guys enjoyed the prologue I wrote!
> 
> ~Nunchi


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of abuse, sexual abuse and sexual situations- _this is not a lighthearted comedy, strap yourselves in kids this is a wild ride_

Your story began in isolation, continued in isolation, and, as far as you were convinced, would end in isolation. You had heard stories about the towns within the valleys of the mountain, about  _Ebonmire_ , in particular. You had been told about the atrocities and utter absence of human morality that had infested the town like an incurable plague. No one knew quite when  _they_ arrived, be it a decade, a century, or an entire generation, but everyone was quick to realize that they had become helpless flies trapped within a web with no exit. They seemed to slip in in the midst of night, taking the entire valley by surprise, and for as long as you can remember, the sun had never shone again on this side of the mountain. You were within a region that was subjugated by evil; a region that was cut off from the rest of the world. This was the devil’s playground, his own personal circle of hell here on earth.

 

If you were a gambling man, you’d say it’s a safe bet to contend that life was never easy on you. If anything, you’d laugh at the irony of it all. An act of selflessness in exchange for an act of selfishness. An innocent life in exchange for a guilty one. Indeed, you would gamble that fate had it out to get you. But that’s how everyone lived in these godforsaken mountains.

 

You weren’t a betting man, and you certainly didn’t believe in fate. If fate were real, it would have been much, much kinder to someone like you.

 

Instead, you faced the cold, hard facts of reality.

 

You were now property. Property that was to be kept alive or exterminated on the whim of your new owner. Property that, amidst the illusion of absolute obedience, refused to relinquish the hope of escape.

 

  
As much as your mind and body screamed at you to do so, you never once regretted surrendering yourself into the hands of the gang members that had come for you and your sister. You had a decision to make, and you didn’t hesitate to put your life on the line to protect what you loved. Your father was prepared to fight tooth and nail once you left the safety of your hiding spot. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye as you let the brutish men take you away with them. You sent a silent prayer that your sacrifice would protect your sister from further inspection; that they would not return to this place looking for  _her_.

 

From the second that you were man-handled outside of your home, the era of human decency that you were familiar with was over. A black bag was thrown over your head, signifying the moment that your body now belonged to the  _system_.

  
  
Immediately, once you arrived at the gang’s base of operations, you were thrown into the pool of other female victims, all waiting for the outcome of their fate in despair. The last distinct memory you had was that of a bright light as the cellar’s doors opened, followed by a gruff voice that called for several obscured silhouettes to “sort them”. A sharp prick at the back of the neck was all it took for your senses to melt into ambiguity- into the abyss.

  
  
After that, time, as well as your memories, passed in a cacophonous blur. Drugs of all shapes and colors were running through your system at every waking hour, refusing to give you even a minute of control of your own body. You were conscious enough times to realize that you were being passed between hands, between gang leaders, between drug lords, but never once were you ever conscious to determine if you had been…  _used_. You found it increasingly odd that as time went on, no had sold you. No one had even shown a sliver of interest.

 

Weeks, months, even as much as a year could have passed without your recognition amidst the indiscernible haze of memories. Your body knew only the feeling of nausea, your mind the feeling of monotony. The irritation of being unable to string together a cohesive thought was eating away not only at your sanity, but also at your humanity. Your mind was caught up in an indiscernible swirl of muffled shouts and auspicious laughter, an inescapable cycle of darkness and blinding lights. You pulled yourself from despair numerous times, clinging to the resolution that you found in your sister’s necklace. One day in particular granted you with a painfully memorable event, however.

 

You remember little. What you do recall is a blur, and any attempt to extract specific details oftentimes cause you to experience sharp, scrutinizing headaches. You recollect the abrupt sensation of your heart feeling as though it was aflame. You bolted upright after the gang members had infused a sort of drug into your bloodstream, causing the adrenaline to course through your veins like liquid fire. At least, at first you thought the people who had awoken you were gang members. By the time you had been yanked off the table and man-handled outside, however, you realized something was wrong. These people brandished ornate tattoos and had brightly colored eyes. It dawned on you that you had been taken by another party, just as one would steal valued goods from one dealer to another.

 

This group in particular were known as the  _Lukarii_. They, in a sense, were like gypsies. That would be an appropriate description in this case if the average gypsy gang was ruthless, violent, and dealt primarily in human trafficking. Luckily, and by the grace of God, a select few of your prayers had been answered, as you did not remain in their custody for very long. After being locked away in rusted meatlocker for what seemed like several days, they had come to the conclusion that you did not meet their standards. In which case, this was another blessing in disguise, as being ‘sub-par’ meant that they didn’t have plans to convert you into prostitution or directly transfer you off to a third party as a sex slave. At least, not immediately. Instead, they had decided to sell you off to a client of theirs in the marketplace.

 

And within the mountains, there was no better arena for black market trade than the epicenter of violence and mayhem itself:  _Ebonmire_.

 

This hellish capital had planted its roots at the foot of the valley’s largest mountain; the mountain that belonged to the Coven.  _Ebonmire_ was, in essence, a gate to hell. It was a nightmarish pit of crime and violence that went relatively unchecked. The Coven had hired, or in more accurate terms,  _forced_ the previously reigning gangs to maintain some essence of order within the city, as well as appointing them as head tax collectors. What they were the tax collectors of, however, eluded no one. They were the men placed in charge not only of making sure the townsfolk coughed up physical money for their overlords, but also in providing a steady supply of ‘ _goods_ ’ to quell their insatiable sexual hunger.

 

Rarely did the girls who were taken up to the top of the mountain ever return. The few that did, however, oftentimes fell victim to an unknown and incurable illness. And that was  _if_ they avoided being condemned to death by the townsfolk on charges of witchcraft and sorcery.

 

There was no order in  _Ebonmire_. As a resident of one of the town’s most popular prostitution houses,  _The Inn_ , you faced the consequences of this fact every single day. Despite where you found yourself, heaven had shown you a shred of mercy. After being passed down from owner to owner, and from handler to handler, you quickly came to realize that you did not meet their physical standards. As miraculous as it was, never once were you taken advantage of. It didn’t take you long at all to realize that the value they saw in you had nothing to do with aesthetics, but in the capability for harsh, physical labor. While the years spent working in the fields within the mountains may have inhibited your ability to appear very feminine, it heightened your physical capabilities more than the average woman.

 

So, in turn, none of your handlers knew quite what to do with you. You had been passed from merchant to merchant, and eventually found yourself here,  _Ebonmire’s_ largest coercion of loaning human services to anyone with the right amount of money in their pockets.

 

You were simply  _The Inn’s_ handservant. The one in charge of every menial or laborious task within the expanse of the whorehouse’s suffocating walls. You took this opportunity to appoint yourself responsible for the aftercare of the other women. The women who had been abused, raped, drugged, and, on rare occasion, killed. Some clients rented girls, others bought them. Once a poor young woman was bought, however, you rarely saw them again.

 

You were someone who was quick to adapt, quick to learn how to survive. You knew silence was the key to prolonging one’s life, and abided by this rule as often as you forced yourself to. The number of times when you had to bite your tongue to avoid another round of senseless, merciless beating were too many for you to keep track of. You kept pushing forward, working hard with the one thought that kept the embers of independence fresh in your mind.

 

They may take the choice of physical compliance away, but no one can silence the thoughts of those who are forced into quiet submission. No one can extinguish the fires that lie behind their eyes.

 

This was the thought that kept you fighting. The thought that kept you alive.

 

* * *

 

Everything changed the day you decided to go against the flow.

 

All you had to do was keep your smart mouth shut, like you always had. But instead, you found yourself in the position to lose your own life. The life you had been working for what seemed like several years under scrupulous circumstances to preserve.

 

The owner had begun to line up his ‘goods’ outside the shop. It was grand market day: the only day of the year where consumers and dealers alike were allowed to buy and sell to their hearts content with no tax attached. It brought the crowds, which, to those inside the human market, meant that it was practically a madhouse. Men and women of any status could now afford their own manservant, or more commonly feared, their own sex slave. As you were not considered one of your owner’s ‘goods’, you were left to tend to the front, making sure every destitute scumbag left with the poor dame he purchased.

 

It was midday before business began to pick up, and you had been doing so well, biting your tongue despite your repulsion. Something out of the corner of your eye, however, made every muscle in your body tense.

 

Screams. Screams that were different than the ones you had learned to drown out. These screams came from a girl you had met just two days ago; a girl who was just fourteen.

 

It was by far the most disgusting thing you had encountered during your time at  _The Inn_. Her name was Seomin, and you had never met such a timid and frail creature in your whole life. She looked ghastly when she was thrown into  _The Inn’s_  custody, and pale.  _Too_ pale. You devoted the majority of your time to making sure she ate and was given proper hygiene, doing your best to protect her from the owner’s impending wrath. It sickened you the way she was mercilessly thrown into the darkest pits of society like this. It sickened you that she reminded you so much of your sister…

 

That’s why, despite your immeasurable self-control, you refused to hold back any longer.

 

You heard the screams,  _her_ screams, and your head whipped around in an instant. The owner had his grubby, fat hand clenched tightly around her thin forearm, twisting it at an unnatural angle. Your eye twitched, chemical messages flying within your brain whilst debating whether or not to take action.

“You little bitch!” The owner snapped, contorting the little girl’s arm painfully, causing her to recoil. “Bite me again like that and I’ll do worse than kill you, you’ll be  _begging_ for death.”

 

There grew a crowd of onlookers as people went their merry ways up and down the market streets. No one dared to interfere. Your fists clenched at your sides.

 

Seomin stuttered, tears streaking down her face. “I-I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

A slap rang out across the street corner, causing the rest of the girls, along with several onlookers, to immediately turn their heads in the direction of the commotion. The other girls for sale trembled. You saw their hands and legs shake in fear that they would be next. That they would follow the fate of Seomin-

 

“Why I-” The owner rubbed his hand through his wiry hair in frustration, continuing to yell and kick a wooden box at his feet. “You little bitch, you’re so useless, I ought to cut my losses right here and now.”

 

-You wouldn’t stand by and let that happen. Not anymore.

 

“I’ll teach you to disrespect your owner like that again-”

 

Another slap. This time is sent Seomin to the ground.

 

“Huh? You like that? Do you like being slapped around, bitch? That’s right, I’m your  _owner_ , and I get to decide whether you live-”

 

He raised his hand far behind him, asserting his promise of soon-to-be mutilation to the innocent girl trembling before him.

 

“Or die.”

 

Seomin clenched her eyes shut, flinching and letting out a terrified shriek as his hand came down with tremendous force.

 

But the slap never came.

 

You used all the remaining strength within you, clasping your bony fingers around your owner’s wrist forcefully. The death grip you had on his arm had prevented any further movement. His beady little eyes stared into yours in a terrifying combination of shock and unadulterated fury.

 

“She didn’t do anything wrong.” You muttered, your voice dropping low in a condescending tone.

 

The old, fat man did his best to shake off your grip, but was failing miserably. “You  _dare_ to defy your owner like this? You aren’t even eligible to become one of my prostitutes, yet you believe you have the authority to question  _me_?”

 

In a fit of anger, he flung his arm to the side, effectively ripping your hand off of him. You were only given a split second before his hand closed around your throat, lifting you up by your neck until you could barely stand on your toes.

 

“You’ll  _die_ for this, you pathetic dog.” The owner snarled at you, the creases in his face curving maliciously as he began to ponder the possibilities.

 

“How do you want me to do it? Hmm?” He brought your face close to his, forcing you to smell his rancid breath, “Do you want me to throw you into the crowd of beggars who are too cheap to pay for their own ‘goods’? I think I’d like that. I think I’d like being able to sit there and watch you cry tears of blood as they fuck you to pieces, you little  _bitch_.”

 

You clenched your teeth. “You- are not my owner… Anymore.”

 

As you choked your words out, the old man’s grip tightened around your throat, no doubt due to the intensity of his rage.

 

“You wanna say that again to me, bitch? You wanna be smart with me, eh? Speak up!”

 

You bore your gaze into his own, defiance refusing to let your resolution falter.

 

“…Fuck. You.”

 

A vicious roar escaped the owner’s throat, echoing across the desolate silence of the town streets. Before you had time to blink, you were thrown to the ground like a rag doll, cracking several minor bones and ligaments in the process. You whipped your head in the old man’s direction, tears beginning to well up at the corners of your eyes.

 

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

 

You should have known this was a mistake. You should have known that your mouth was only going to get you into more shit than you’re already in, and yet, you couldn’t hold yourself back. The sight of Seomin being treated like she was no more than a rag doll to be thrown around sent tidal waves of rage through you, and that was when you knew that was the final straw. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of your own sister,  _Jiyeon_. The sister you had fought so hard to protect. 

 

Now, you had to bear the inescapable consequences of your own impulsive nature. Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret, or even care. If you were going to die at the hands of your owner, so be it. At the back of your mind, you knew that at least you died trying. It was definitely better than being stuck in this miserable land with your equally miserable life, pushed from place to place like a discarded suitcase and bent to the will of the people around you, claiming to own your entire being.

 

So as the owner brought his hand down to strike you mercilessly once more, you allowed your eyelids to flutter shut as images of your own sister flooded through your mind like a tidal wave. Subconsciously, your fingers reached up to clasp at the necklace around your neck, clinging on as though your life depends on it.

 

“Jiyeon,” You croaked, voice barely audible. “I’m sorry I broke my promise to you. Please forgive me.”

 

You waited for the ruthless collision between the back of the owner’s hand and your flushed face. You waited and waited in anticipation, fingers curled into white-knuckled fists in anticipation for the inevitable pain. A pain that brought death.

 

But the strike never came.

 

 

* * *

 

> _**Kim Jongdae** _

 

“You mind telling me what I’ve been roped into  _this_ time?” He whined in a low voice, jogging to catch up with his brothers.

 

“Listen, Jongdae,” The slightly-taller man muttered in response, clearly annoyed with the situation himself. “Junmyeon sent Sehun, Kyungsoo and I  to track down another lead, and you were the only one who wasn’t preoccupied, so he told us to bring you along. Stop complaining already and help us get this over with quickly. We  _all_ have better things to be doing right now.”

 

“What, Jongin, like fucking the brains out of your little band of whores for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours?” Jongdae growled under his breath.

 

Jongin’s jaw clenched as he kept walking. “Actually, yes, that sounds much better than having to investigate this issue further.”

 

Jongdae took in a deep breath to keep from rolling his eyes. “Junmyeon needs to check his definition of ‘preoccupied.’”

 

“It’s not like you had anything better to do,” Kyungsoo grumbled in an emotionless voice, keeping his gaze transfixed ahead of him as he walked.

 

“Hey, you never know,” Jongin smirked, looking over his shoulder at Jongdae, who was bringing up the rear with his hands in his pockets contemptuously. “He could’ve been in the middle of enjoying himself with a good whore.”

 

Jongdae didn’t hold back this time, rolling his eyes and biting his cheek to keep from snapping back at his younger brother.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Sehun snickered, a mischievous smile creeping across his features. “Jongdae hasn’t gotten laid in weeks. Makes you wonder if he’s having problems down yonder.”

 

A growl emitted itself from deep within Jongdae’s throat.

 

“Either that, or he’s become incapable of finding a girl who’s willing to give him what he needs.” Sehun clasped his hands together behind his head, walking forwards as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

 

Jongdae looked up from the ground, sending a venomous gaze to Sehun. “If I was desperate, I wouldn’t  _need_ them to be willing.”

 

Sehun chuckled darkly to himself. “It’s more fun that way anyways. The more fight they have in their eyes, the more I want to drain it out of them.”

 

Jongdae scoffed to himself. “Maybe that’s to cover up the fact that none of the girl would  _want_ to give themselves to you. And for good reason.”

 

Sehun whipped his head around, his eyes narrowing aggressively.

 

“That’s  _enough_ ,” Jongin barked, interrupting the tension between the two of them. “Like it or not, Junmyeon put me in charge of our patrol, and the faster we scout out what we need to, the faster we can go back.”

 

Jongdae returned his gaze to the dirt road ahead of him.

 

_Let’s just get this over with._

The sun had just begun to peak above the horizon line by the time Jongdae and his three brothers arrived at the town, painting the sky with several hues of blue that anteceded dawn. As soon as the four hunters had stepped foot into the populated area, the crowds skimmed to the sides of the streets, fearing to step within the radius of the vampires’ gaze. Shopkeepers scurried to set up their storefronts, preparing for the day’s rush of business. None of them dared to turn their heads in the direction of the Coven.

 

 _At least they know their place._  Jongdae shoved his hands back into the pockets of his leather pants, refusing to look at any of the commoners in the eye.

 

After a few minutes of walking through the cold streets of the plaza and weaving in between destitute stone structures that resembled buildings, Jongin led his gang down a thin alleyway that branched off ominously from the main road.

 

“Jongin, are you sure this is where Junmyeon said the lead was?” Sehun’s head turned in all directions to examine the dark, wet walls of the alley.

 

“We’re making a quick detour.” Jongin stated in a nonchalant tone. “There’s a residence that hasn’t paid their taxes in the past few months, and we’re here to collect. Junmyeon’s orders.”

 

Jongdae sighed exasperatedly to himself. He hated doing the dirty work. Junmyeon knew this, yet he still sent Jongdae to go on patrol with Jongin and the others.

 

After making an indiscernible number of twists and turns, Jongin stopped directly in front of a thin wooden door. The residence was clearly part of a run-down tenement house, as there were no other doors or windows in sight. Jongin knocked once, not leaving any room for a response before shoving the door open with brute strength.

 

“Mr. Yoon? Mr.  _Yoon_?” Jongin called out in a domineering voice as he stepped inside the building.

 

Sehun followed closely behind him, smiling as he entered. Kyungsoo was next, his face as emotionless as ever. Jongdae took a deep breath before walking in as well. Immediately, Jongdae’s nose reeled at the humid, pungent smell that he was met with. The residence are far for being upkept, and lighting was scarce. Splotches of blues and greens that indicated the infestation of mold was apparent in several areas along the walls, ceiling, and floors.

 

There was a repeated thud that sounded from the floor above, hinting at the hastened descent of someone running down the stairs. Soon enough, a pudgy man with very little hair on his head appeared from around the corner. His gray eyes widened in fear as he saw four members of the Coven standing at his doorstep.

 

He raced to the front of the room, bowing low several times in submission.

 

“My lords, what brings you here?” It was evident to Jongdae how the old man was struggling to sputter out his words.

 

Jongin hummed to himself. “You already know why we’re here, Mr. Yoon.”

 

Jongdae looked down at the man, now petrified, as sweat began to drip down from his dirtied forehead. He sighed, opting to scan the lower level in disinterest to take his mind off of the scene that was happening in front of him.

 

_I hate doing the dirty work._

“Our leader has noticed you’ve been rather negligent with your contributions as of late, and we’ve come to collect.” Jongin’s voice came out amused.

 

“Please,” The old man begged, “You must understand, my wife just died, and I’ve barely had enough money to keep from starving.”

 

Jongdae was quickly becoming bored of being part of this. He took a deep breath, but as he did so, he noticed a definite smell. A smell that was distinctly different from the putrid rank of the living space. Something distinctly,  _feminine_.

“Taxes are taxes I’m afraid,” Jongin let loose one last smile before his expression hardened, leaving no room for excuses. “Now hand over what you owe us, otherwise, you know the price.”

 

As if in unison, all four sets of eyes flashed an inhuman shade of crimson, sending a non verbal promise of death to those who looked upon them.

 

The old man gulped, frozen in place with fear. He opened his mouth to speak, to beg, to plead for his life, Jongdae wasn’t sure which, but was halted as another voice rang out across the crowded space.

 

“Father!”

 

 _A feminine voice,_  Jongdae thought, _To match a feminine scent._

A second later, the thin, weary body of a young girl, no older than twenty, rushed across the floor to the old man’s side. Her long hair flowed in front of her face as she knelt down to wrap her arms around her father comfortingly.

 

The elderly man began to scold her. “Jaehee, what are you doing? I told you to remain upstairs-”

 

“Please, sirs,” The young girl interjected, surprising Jongdae, “We have no money to give. If you could allow us just a little more time-”

 

“A deadline is a deadline.” Jongin’s voice was emotionless.

 

“All we ask is for a small extension, I swear, we will do everything we can to make up for our lost contributions. We have no money to give you right now. I beg you.” The young girl’s eyes were full of fear and sadness as she pleaded.

 

“No money, you say?” Sehun pushed himself off from leaning against the wall, arms still crossed.

 

“Is this true?” Jongin lowered his head to glare threateningly into the old man’s eyes.

 

He nodded, still trembling. “We have nothing to pay with.”

 

“Oh, on the contrary,” Jongin straightened himself, running his fingers along the bottom of his chin meticulously.

 

Jongdae watched as Jongin turned his head, ever so slowly, to gaze deep into the eyes of the frightened young girl.

 

“I think we’ve found something that will pay nicely.” Jongin smirked, causing the girl to stumbled backwards, tripping over her feet and falling onto the cold floor.

 

Without a word, Jongin turned around and began to walk out the door. He stopped just before exiting, placing a hand on the doorframe.

 

“Sehun…” His voice was stiff.

 

“Grab the girl.”

 

Jongdae looked on as the girl broke out into violent sobs, scooting herself backwards against the floor. The old man shouted rambling protests, attempting to place himself between the approaching vampire and his daughter. Kyungsoo intercepted him, silently wrapping a firm hand around the man’s throat and pinning him against the opposing wall.

 

Sehun’s sinister grin widened as he crept towards the girl. She slid against the ground in a futile attempt to increase the distance between them. It wasn’t long before Sehun lurched forward, grabbing one of the girl’s ankles and yanking her towards him. She fought against his grasp uselessly, but not before utilizing the space between their bodies to land a forceful slap across Sehun’s face.

 

The house fell silent. The only noise that Jongdae could register  was the girl’s heavy panting.

 

Sehun chuckled darkly, reverting his head to look directly at his prey.

 

“You  _really_ shouldn’t’ve done that, babydoll.”

 

In a flash, Sehun had thrown the girl over his shoulder, standing up to walk back through the doorway. Once Sehun had successfully carried the thrashing young girl outside, Kyungsoo released his hold on the old man’s throat, permitting him to drop to the floor and gasp for air. Jongdae saw Kyungsoo’s stoic expression, never faltering, as he left the house. After stealing one last, remorseless look at the old man now crumpled on the ground, Jongdae exited as well, closing the door softly behind him.

 

Jongdae took a deep breath in in order to restore his senses, but was abruptly snapped away from his brief moment of tranquility.

 

_The smell of blood._

 

Jongdae whipped his head to the side to witness Sehun, pushing his prey against the cold brick wall mercilessly. He looked around to find both Jongin and Kyungsoo already making their way down the alley, completely careless to what was happening behind them as they walked away.

 

With his prey completely helpless in his ruthless grip, Sehun bent his head at an angle which allowed him greater access to the young girl’s neck. Her bloodcurdling screams and pleas for mercy went unnoticed, falling on deaf ears as Sehun grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her head back against the wall. Her skull collided with the cold concrete with a sickening  _thud_ , giving her bloodthirsty predator better access to her exposed collarbones. They stuck out at odd, prominent angles, a blatant sign that she was not somebody who’s had the luxury of proper meals in a long time.

 

Jongdae’s sharp eyes drank in the sight of this particular physical trait, his fingers curling into white-knuckled fists by his sides as he blankly watched Sehun pounce on his wailing prey without an ounce of mercy. His brother ducked his head and in one swift motion, sank his teeth into the tender skin of her neck with a malicious growl, his filthy hands clawing at the poor girl’s petite form. A scream rips itself from her throat at the agonizing sensation and she reaches up to shove him away. But Sehun was not somebody to be deterred so easily.

 

Crude, slurping noises filled the air as he abused the now bloody patch of exposed skin with his sharp and glistening incisors, hands frantically grabbing at places that shouldn’t be. The girl howls, begs and pleads and all Jongdae can feel is pity and disgust as he observes the predicament she’s in.

 

 _Save your breath, sweetheart._  Jongdae mused to himself grimly, lips pressed together in a tight line.

 

All Sehun does is unleash his trademark ghastly laughter at it all, pulling away to admire his handiwork on his prey’s neck. Two bite marks glared back at him, crimson blood pouring out of them in a steady stream. With a devious smack of his lips, Sehun grabbed the girl’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look up into his glowing eyes.

 

“Let this be a lesson to you, dollface,” he sneers wickedly. “Nobody lays a finger on me without consequences.”

 

She blinked up at him drowsily, her eyes wet with tears of anguish and agony as she weakly clawed at his arms in a desperate attempt to remain conscious. In response, Sehun’s lips peeled back into a shit-eating smirk and his hand weaved its way in between her legs, groping at her as though he owns her. His poisonous touch bled into her, infiltrating every inch of her being and she loathed it. Despite the aura of defeat radiating off her, Jongdae can see the intense fear in her damp eyes, obviously revolted and utterly terrified with the fact that she’s being manhandled like some kind of cheap fuck toy.

 

But she could do nothing about it, opting to let Sehun lay his hands all over her quivering form. He began to fondle at the area in between her thighs, rubbing at her clothed womanhood through the fabric teasingly and withdrawing strangled moans from her as a result. Those moans clashed horrifyingly with his reverberating chuckles, the crude noises bouncing off the walls and making Jongdae’s head throb nauseously.

 

It was obvious that Sehun wanted to have more fun time with his new toy but eventually, the girl’s eyelids fluttered shut and she slumped defeatedly against the wall, growing limp in his hold. Her head flopped forward, bumping against his chest like a rag doll and with an exasperated sigh, Sehun let her slump to the ground carelessly.

 

Jongdae looked on as Sehun finally released the girl from his grasp, letting her tepid body drop to the floor lifelessly. Red liquid was oozing from her bite mark, and he knew full well that if she didn’t receive attention soon, she would bleed out.

 

Sehun stood up and straightened himself, realigning the tie that accompanied his now blood-stained dress shirt. He turned around and walked towards Jongdae with a devious smile, placing a hand on his shoulder as he passed by.

 

“Her fear was absolutely  _delicious_.” Sehun licked the corner of his lips, wiping away the thin trail of blood that was left while staring Jongdae in the eye. “Ready to go?”

 

Sehun continued walking down the alleyway, leaving Jongdae to bite back his repulsion.

 

This was why he hated doing the dirty work. This was why he avoided Ebonmire as much as possible. Because although he knew he belonged as a full-blooded member of the Coven, he knew that careless, purposeless actions like this disgusted him.

 

He looked down and watched as the life slowly drained from the girl’s limp and broken body.

 

And he was revolted.

 

* * *

 

Jongdae forced himself to cool off, choosing to trail far behind his brothers in order to do so. After a few minutes passed by of travailing through the urban desolation, Jongdae caught up with the others, who had halted in front of an abandoned warehouse.

 

It’s exterior looked more like a latent disarray of scrap metal than anything else. Oil and rust covered every inch of the walls, and there were more holes of shattered glass than something that resembled windows. The wide front door had been pulled lopsidedly from its hinges, yet the handle remained encased in a rust-covered lock-and-chain.

 

As Jongdae pulled up to his brothers’ sides, Sehun wasted no time in breaking-and-entering. His lanky form did nothing to inhibit his inhuman strength, evident in the way his leg came crashing into the door, ripping the two sides apart from the lock and sending it flying from its hinges. In a flash, all four men rushed into the building as abnormal speeds, teeth bared and claws protruding, prepared to rip the life away from any unlucky inhabitant they came across. Kyungsoo and Jongin sprinted through the lower level, tearing rotten furniture to shreds in their wake as they searched for signs of life. Sehun ran straight past the two of them and busted down the door to the garage, disappearing from Jongdae’s view as he did so. Jongdae himself ran up the stairs, and began clearing the upper-level rooms.

 

After a mere handful of seconds, all four members roared in unison, extremely irked at the fact that there was nothing to be found.

 

Jongdae hissed to himself, prepared to return downstairs before he noticed something in the corner of his eye. He turned to inspect a metal door, tucked away in the corner of the open-spaced upper floor. It had been left cracked-open. Jongdae’s eyes narrowed as he approached the door slowly. After cautiously pushing it open, his senses were immediately attacked with the overpowering smell of blood and death.  _Of Corpses_. His hand searched for a light, fumbling in the darkness until he found one. Once flipped, a switch gave an incandescent amount of power to an overhead lamp, stuttering to life and illuminating the horrific display in front of him.

 

 _Bodies. Dead bodies._  Jongdae’s jaw clenched at the sight, eyes narrowing further.  _Eight of them._

 

“Hey Jongin!” Jongdae’s raptureless voice called out, loud enough to reverberate across the entire building. In an instant, Jongin was standing right behind him, accompanied by Kyungsoo and Sehun. “Looks like they did it again.”

 

Sehun brushed past Jongdae, bumping against his shoulders as he did so. He skipped over to where the bodies lay in a disheveled pile, kneeling down to inspect them. “They’re all female. Under twenty-five. By the pattern of bruises on their arms and legs and the tattoo on their wrist, it’s definitely  _their_ work.”

 

Jongin let out a tired sigh, closing his eyes as he  rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger sluggishly. “That makes this the  _third_ time we’ve missed them. All this work tracking down their whereabouts and we’re left with another heap of dead bodies.”

 

“Time to go back to Junmyeon and tell him we had another bust,” Sehun whined, sighing childishly.

 

As everyone prepared to leave, Jongdae couldn’t help but feel there was something  _more_. He stiffened and stalked over to where the pile of bodies lay, squatting down to inspect them himself. His eyes narrowed as they traversed the inflicted, fatal wounds. His gaze was emotionless as he surveyed the condition of the corpses.

 

_All stab wounds to the lower abdomen. Definite signs of struggle. Very sloppy handiwork. No evident desire to fully discard of the bodies._

 

Jongdae stood up, turning to leave to rejoin his brothers.

 

 _They were looking for something…_ Jongdae’s brow furrowed as he came to his conclusion.  _No… Some_ one.

 

“What took you so long?” Sehun snickered, his mischievous gaze meeting Jongdae’s as he exited the building.

 

“C’mon,” Jongin interrupted the possibility of Sehun’s sly remark. “It’s time to head back. It’s nearly midday, and the streets are sure to be crowded soon.”

 

“Aish,” Sehun whined. “I could’ve slept in today.”

 

As the party set off back towards the entrance of the town, Kyungsoo, who had remained deathly silent as usual until this point, nudged Jongdae’s arm lightly.

 

“What did you find?” His trademark low voice reminded Jongdae that he could, in fact, speak.

 

“The gang we’re hunting keeps leaving a trail of dead bodies in their wake. All female. All prostitutes. While it seems obvious that they’re doing it to taunt us, I think I’ve discovered a deeper reason for their killing spree.” At Kyungsoo’s intent expression urging him on, Jongdae continued, “They’re searching for someone. Someone in particular.”

 

“Hey! Let’s pick up the slack a little!” Jongin called over his shoulder as he continued walking down the alley several feet ahead of Kyungsoo and Jongdae. “I  _would_ like to get home at a reasonable hour this time!”

 

Jongdae’s jaw clenched as he and Kyungsoo dismissed their conversation to meet up with Jongin and Sehun.

 

The sun had protruded fully across the horizon line by the time the four members had returned to the plaza. The town center was bustling with activity as the market day commenced, leaving swarms of people swerving to avoid a fatal glimpse from one of the Coven themselves. They strolled leisurely through the busy street, keeping their eyes fixed on the gate that lay a few blocks further ahead of them. The less affiliations they had with the townspeople, the better. As one does not often recognize the infantile bug under their shoe, let alone acknowledge its presence.

 

Jongdae had hoped to be in and out of town quickly. Less time spent amidst their subjects meant less possibilities of useless acts of violence. He had hoped that by maintaining a heated pace with the rest of the group, that he would avoid any unnecessary altercations.

 

He was wrong.

 

“Hey, Jongdae!” Sehun, who was leading the party, stopped abruptly, causing the rest of his brothers to halt in their tracks. “There’s a pretty nice meat sale going on across the street.”

 

Jongdae’s eyes followed where Sehun’s hand was gesturing. At the other side of the block, Jongdae spotted the ongoing business to which Sehun was referring to.

 

The business of selling off humans as property.

 

_The Inn._

Jongdae rolled his eyes. “You know as much as I do that I have no desire to waste my time with such useless things.”

 

“I don’t know. It might be good for you, Jongdae,” Jongin chimed in, “We all know you’ve been relying on Yixing’s supply of girls to keep you marginally satisfied. It’s time you had your own whore.”

 

“I really don’t think that’s any of your business,” Jongdae hissed.

 

He attempted to brush past the group, but Sehun gripped his shoulder roughly, causing Jongdae to turn and face him.

 

“Come on, Jongdae,” Sehun’s weasel smile returned, his voice venomous, “When’s the last time you had a girl squirming underneath you?”

 

“Why the fuck do you care?” Jongdae growled, brushing Sehun’s hand off of him.

 

Pushing past Sehun, Jongdae stalked onwards, fists clenched tightly to keep in his anger. He didn’t need his own personal whore. He kept his sex drive satiated just fine on his own, and most of Yixing’s girls were willing to give him what he needed. Having his own whore was pointless.

 

Avid yells and cries of pain jerked Jongdae’s attention back across the street. He stopped walking. A young girl, no older than fourteen, was being mercilessly beaten by the store’s owner. Jongdae’s gut twisted at the tight, but his face remained emotionless. He looked on as the merchant spat venomously into the terrified little girl’s face, yelling a stream of incoherent curses as he face reddened in anger. He was taken aback, however, as he witnessed another girl. This one was strong. Strong enough to grasp the man’s meaty arm, preventing him from striking the younger girl. His gaze stiffened as he took in her confidence. Such boldness was significantly out of place here. Jongdae looked on coldly as the angry man turned the tables, violently manhandling the older girl and shoving her onto the floor. He watched as the man hovered over her, beginning to pummel her face in repeatedly in a heinous fit of rage. Jongdae would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel something stir within him. Something infinitesimally small.

_I don’t have time for this._ Jongdae growled low to himself, dismissing his thoughts.

 

Jongdae ripped his eyes away from the scene of brutality before him, beginning to continue his pace to get away from it all. He hadn’t made it very far, however, before something caused him to halt in his tracks.

 

 _“Jiyeon,”_  Jongdae froze, the feminine voice echoing within his ears, drowning out all other noise.  _“I’m sorry I broke my promise to you… Please forgive me.”_

Before Jongdae even realized what was happening, he was  **there**.

 

His inhuman speed allowed him to appear at the man’s side almost instantaneously. Jongdae’s hand was wrapped adamantly around the store-owner’s arm. Due to an instinct Jongdae had never felt before, he had caught this man’s hand a mere second before it came down to strike you, protecting you from the fatal blow.

 

The man’s heated gaze whipped around to meet that of Jongdae’s. That of a member of the Coven. Of a vampire.

 

“Y-Your lordship!” The man’s haughty voice cracked, the hatred in his eyes being replaced with unadulterated fear. “I-… I-”

 

Jongdae’s eyes turned crimson involuntarily, and he bit his tongue.

 

_Shit._

Why had he just intervened? It went against every fiber of his being to defend something as meaningless as the life of a human, let alone a pathetic human girl. Jongdae’s thoughts scattered and scrambled to come up with a reason for his actions.

 

“You,” Jongdae’s eyes stared intensely into the shopkeeper’s, a stare he knew would instill irreplaceable amounts of fear. “You will not strike her again.”

 

“B-But my lord,” The old man stuttered for words, fearing for his life, “She’s just a pathetic slave girl. She’s not even worthy to be a lowly prostitute.”

 

“You’re willing to defy my words, peasant?” Jongdae’s grip around the man’s arm tightened, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I told you to leave her be, and you  _will_ leave her be.”

 

After this, Jongdae released the man’s now swollen arm, stepping back and preparing to leave. He didn’t want to be a part of this situation longer than he needed to, and several heads had turned to watch the discourse. He couldn’t place a finger on why he decided to intervene in the first place, and he didn’t feel like sticking around long enough to find out. As Jongdae turned to leave, however, he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

 

“My, my, my, what have we here?” Sehun’s teasing voice resounded in Jongdae’s ears, causing him to tense. “Has this little babydoll been naughty?”

 

Jongdae turned around to see Sehun staring deep into the eyes of the petrified young girl. His stare told Jongdae more than enough concerning his intentions; he knew them full-well. The hunger and lust of a predator who had just set eyes on their helpless prey. Sehun’s gaze flittered to meet Jongdae’s quickly before he smirked.

 

“Do you plan on buying her, Jongdae?”

 

“Of course not,” Jongdae remarked bitterly.

 

“Well then, I guess you don’t mind if I take her off your hands.” Jongdae couldn’t help the way a guttural growl emitted from deep within him at Sehun’s words. “I do enjoy extinguishing the light out of the ones who have some fight left in them. And since you don’t want her-”

 

Sehun’s threat worked, much to Jongdae’s dismay, and in the blink of an eye Jongdae had grabbed the collar of the merchant’s shirt, pulling him up to stand on his toes.

 

“Listen to me, you filthy bastard. You will have her ready for me by tonight, when I come to claim her.” Jongdae hissed lowly, eyes narrowing to emphasize the ferocity in his eyes as he stared the man down. “In exchange, I will forget the events that transpired here today.”

 

The old man nodded eagerly, prepared to do anything to appease the vampire of whom he has severely pissed off.

 

Jongdae released his hold on the man’s collar, dropping him to the floor. He turned around slowly, squatting down to be eye-level with the trembling girl he had just bargained for.

 

“You will belong to  _me_ now,” The young girl flinched at his icy words. “Do you understand?”

 

She was shaking violently, no doubt due to the adrenaline shooting through her system for fear of her life. She refused to meet his eyes, staring at the ground instead.

 

“Do you understand me?!” Jongdae’s voice roared, earning a whimper from the girl’s lips.

 

She bit her lip and nodded quickly.

 

“Good.” Jongdae stood to his feet before turning his gaze back to the old man. “I will return at midnight.”

 

He dusted himself off before stalking off across the street, leaving the crowd of townspeople in complete shock. His mind wandered to the state of the girl that he had just purchased.

 

No doubt she was hoping she didn’t make a mistake selling her soul to the devil.

 

He was hoping he didn’t make a mistake buying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Nunchi:**_ IT’S FINALLY HEEERRREEE!! After weeks of scrapping idea after idea, we’ve finally got this series in the works!! Please show it lots of love everyone! ILY GUYS SO MUCH~
> 
>  _ **Shauna:**_ Hello everyone! thank you for taking the time to read through this chapter and congrats for reaching my message. it’s been a wonderful experience to collab with nunchi/abby and thank you for all the support! Much love~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of abuse, sexual abuse and sexual situations _(not for the weak of heart)_

A glowing, orange pair of eyes bore into your own. A pair of eyes that you hoped never to stare into again. 

  
  
A pair of eyes belonging to Kim Jongdae himself.

  
  
His cold, emotionless stare revealed no intent, and no motive. You were completely at his mercy.

  
  
He kept one hand sturdily planted on the small of your back, supporting you, as the other reached up to firmly grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze unwaveringly.

  
  
“You belong to me now.” Your breathing halted as his emotionless, honeyed voice reached your ears. “And I trust you know what that means…”

 

You could only quiver in his hold, an inhuman chill seeping through your muscles and rendering them useless. It was something about the Coven that made them freeze anyone they encountered with fear, some abnormal essence within their aura that pierced one’s own humanity, shattering it.

 

Without another word, you felt Jongdae reach his arms behind your back and around your waist. In one fluid movement, you were swooped up and draped over his shoulder, almost as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t bother to fight; you knew that while it was pointless, you were too exhausted to even try. You shivered as the cold, smooth leather of Jongdae’s coat brushed against your skin.

 

Your head swayed gently as Jongdae walked out of the cellar. The last sight that imprinted itself on your memory became the cold, lonely glowing eyes of the girls that had been left behind. It was at this point that you didn’t know which was worse: life as a brothel slave, or the Coven’s plaything. If either was a life at all. After Jongdae had exited  _The Inn_  and the cold air bit at your dry and bruised skin, you decided that you had gone from the frying pan into the fire.

 

Aside from the gravel crunching underneath Jongdae’s boots, all was quiet on the streets. The half moon hung directly overhead, illuminating the entire town square. Both you and Jongdae remained silent as he continued to walk. Your wrists and ankles were beginning to cramp due to the tightness of the ropes, yet you bit your tongue.

 

Soon enough, you felt your weight shift. Quickly, jongdae knelt to the ground, depositing you to sit on the gravel in one swift movement. You looked up to see a massive black stallion with its reins attached to the nearest hitch. Its wavy black mane blew just slightly in the wind, and you nearly trembled at its closeness. While your attention was on Jongdae’s horse, you felt cold steel against the skin of your wrist. You jumped as a reflex, attempting to scoot backwards. You saw Jongdae’s frown twist in annoyance, his hand reaching out to grab your bound wrists forcefully.

 

“Easy, little one.” He mumbled.

 

In a swift movement, Jongdae used the blade of a small knife to slice through your bonds, freeing your wrists. You immediately brought them to your chest, rubbing at the tender, swollen rope burns. Jongdae then directed his attention lower, gripping the rope that bound your ankles. You tried unsuccessfully to keep them still as he prepared to cut. You were still trembling uncontrollably.

 

“I bet you think what you did back there was heroic.” Jongdae drew his arm back, effectively ridding your legs of rope without spilling a single drop of blood. “Don’t you?”

 

You bit down on your lip, hard.

 

It wasn’t a question. Not the way in which there was a hint of menace in his voice.

 

Jongdae stood to his feet and extended a hand to help you up. Knowing no other option, you took it. As he lifted you to your feet, you could feel your legs begin to wobble and give out. Seeing this, Jongdae slid his hand down to your elbow, pulling you towards him until your body was pressed up against his, his other hand wrapping around your waist to secure you in place.

 

You were too frightened to breathe.

 

“I asked you a question.” His eyes glossed over with an inhuman glow as they glared mercilessly into yours. “When I ask, I expect you to answer.”

 

You swallowed, your throat so dry you doubted any sound would come out.

 

“Not-” You cleared your throat. “Not any more heroic than anyone else trying to survive.”

 

Jongdae’s hand let go of your wrist to grip your chin.

 

“There are no heroes in Ebonmire,” His eyes narrowed. “All who try are the first to die.”

 

“If that’s the case,” You stared back into Jongdae’s eyes with the slightest hint of defiance. “Then why am I still alive?”

 

To your surprise, Jongdae smirked and released his tight grip on your chin. Leaving your question unanswered, he stepped back, nodding his head towards the saddle of his horse.

 

Biting the inside of your cheek harshly, you turned to face the saddle. After placing one hand on the cantle, you lifted a trembling foot into the stirrup. Giving it a quick  _one, two_ , you pushed up on your leg. Where you thought the sheer exhaustion would fail you in your attempt to be seated, you felt a strong hand at the base of your thigh, significantly aiding your ascent into the saddle. The contact of Jongdae’s hand caused you to shiver once you had successfully seated yourself; the erratic coldness leaving a lasting imprint.

 

After a quick tug and a flash of the tail of his coat, Jongdae was positioned behind you, his feet taking their place in the stirrups. Your heart lept into your throat as Jongdae leaned forward, pressing his chest against your back to take the reins. His arms encased you, leaving you to find solace only in the withers of the horse’s mane. Jongdae clicked and kicked his heel to initiate the journey. As the horse began to canter off towards the town gate, your knuckles turned white, the black hair between your fingers gripped tightly.

 

When the horse had made it past the iron gate, leading towards the mountain, it began to pick up speed immensely. You felt yourself jerk up and down on the saddle uncontrollably, struggling to maintain balance. The rocky, forested terrain left you helplessly gripping any part of the saddle you could to straighten yourself.

 

Just when you thought you couldn’t hold on for much longer, Jongdae passed the reins to one hand, the other wrapping itself tightly around your waist and pulling you against his chest. Your breath hitched immediately.

 

As the ride bore on, the moonlight became obscured by a thick layer of black cloud. Thunder rumbled through the forest, resounding in your ears and causing you to shiver. The night was cold, and you wore only the soiled white gown  _The Inn_  had provided. As much as your conscious told screamed that you were in the wrong, your body was looking forward to being inside.

 

Wherever  _inside_ was.

 

It seemed as though an eternity had passed before the horse slowed.

 

An eternity, however, was too short a time for you.

 

Your heart raced immeasurably as the horse stopped directly in front of a black gate of intimidating size. Jongdae dropped the reins and dismounted, only regrabbing them after he had turned towards the gate. As though the iron weighed as paper, he pushed the side of the gate open. It creaked into motion in cacophonous fashion, causing you to flinch just slightly.

 

Without pause, Jongdae walked forward, leading the horse, and in turn, you, past the massive brick wall that disappeared eerily into the sea of pine trees on each end. You gripped the front of the saddle tightly, your knuckles turning white as the impending weight of your situation was becoming more and more evident. The top of the mountain was only a trail away now, an ominous black shape at its end obscured by the darkness of night.

 

A flash of lightning illuminated that which you feared most.

 

The mansion.

 

Clearly not of this era, you were in awe of its size and grandeur, even from such a distance. Previously, you had only the whim of rumor and townsfolk drabble to go on. And yet, nothing could have prepared you for the construct that you were now approaching.

 

 _A proper home for a Coven of vampires_. You thought. _For me… A prison._

You shook your head.

_No._

_A dungeon._

The sound of the horse’s hooves hitting cobblestone ripped you away from your thoughts. A dingy yellow glow leaked through the sheer windows of the mansion, barely illuminating your surroundings. Sooner than you had time to prepare yourself, the horse slowed to a stop.

 

You were at the mansion’s black, marble entrance. Jongdae tied the reins to a nearby post and turned to face you.

 

Your blood ran cold.

 

Without a word, he extended his hand to aid your dismount. Deeming it wiser not to refuse him, you swung your leg around, taking his hand as you leapt from the saddle.

 

Quickly, and before you hand time to react, Jongdae slid his hand that held yours down to your wrist, gripping it painfully tight. His glowing eyes narrowed as the bore into your own.

 

“You will listen to me, and you will obey what I tell you.” His voice was cold. Emotionless. “When you are inside, you will not speak to anyone. You will not look anyone in the eye. You will remain silent behind me until we make it to the room.”

 

_The room… The room…_

_His room._

 

“Your disobedience will likely result in your death.” Jongdae tilted his head, leaning in closer. “Am I clear?”

 

You nodded.

 

“Words, little one.”

 

“Y-yes sir.” You forced out.

 

“Good.” Jongdae backed away, his hand still clutching your wrist.

 

Turning towards the grand doors, he moved the hand that was gripping you behind his back, forcing you to stay very close behind him. Your dehydrated, starved frame was easily engulfed by his broad shoulders.

 

Pulling on the handle with his free hand, the door noiselessly began to slide open. Golden light immediately set your lenses ablaze, causing you to recoil behind Jongdae’s back.

 

 _Don’t speak._ You bit the inside of your cheek, reminding yourself.  _Don’t look at anyone- just keep staring at the ground._

 

“Ah, look who’s returned!” A foreign voice caused you to flinch away just slightly.

 

Jongdae’s fingers tightened just slightly around your wrist.

 

“We thought you were off sulking in the woods, searching for a hapless victim to drain.”

 

“I’m not a  _child_ , Jongin.” Jongdae hissed.

 

“No,” The other man cooed in amusement. “Though it seems as though you have brought one along with you.”

 

As your eyes burned holes into the red carpet, you saw a shadow spread across the floor and into your field of vision; a second later, someone’s leather shoe.

 

You didn’t breathe, attempting remaining as still as stone and praying that the way your heart hammered inside of your chest wouldn’t give you away.

 

“And what a pretty little thing it is.” The other man judged, his tone cold. “I can hear its frail little heart- it’s scared to death, poor thing.”

 

You fought back a wince at the complete lack of sympathy in his voice.

 

“I’m surprised you actually fell for Sehun’s shenanigans; you’re usually quite diligent.” The other man, Jongin, sneered.

 

“Regardless,” Jongdae growled. “She belongs to me, now, which means-”

 

Jongdae took a step forward, causing you to stumble forwards behind him.

 

“-No one else will be touching her.”

 

“You won’t be seeing any attempts from me,” You could feel Jongin’s presence as he circled around Jongdae. “She’s…  _tempting_ -” You felt a hand sweep through your hair, sending a paralyzing chill down your spine. You bit down on your tongue harshly to avoid moving or making noise. “-But she’s not my type.”

 

“Where are the others?” Jongdae spoke dismissively.

 

“Most of them are lounging about,” Breath returned to your lungs as you felt Jongin back away from you to face Jongdae. “But Junmyeon’s in the study with Kyungsoo and Sehun, discussing what we found earlier today.”

 

Without speaking, Jongdae started to walk forwards, catching you by surprise. You fumbled behind him, nearly tripping once your feet met the bottom of a staircase.

 

You could hear a low chuckle behind you.

 

“It’s time you joined the rest of us and loosened up a bit, Jongdae.” Jongin called after the two of you as you continued to ascend. “You aren’t fooling anyone. I know the monster that’s been locked away inside of you for too long.”

 

There was a short pause.

 

“It’s about time it came out to play.”

 

You clenched your eyes shut as soon as Jongdae made it to the top of the stairs, hoping to suppress Jongin’s dark words out of your current thought.

 

After that, it wasn’t far at all until you stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. Keeping your eyes glued to the floor, you heard the quick click and snap of a key unlocking the handle. Soon enough, the door was pushed open, and you were led inside.

 

You kept walking for a few seconds until you felt Jongdae’s hand release your wrist. Trembling in place, you kept your eyes locked onto the maroon, carpeted floors. The sound of the door closing caused you to jump slightly, and your cursed yourself for moving.

 

“That bastard.” You heard Jongdae shuffle around the room.

 

A full minute passed, mostly in silence as you stood motionless, too scared to do anything but remain still.

 

Then, suddenly, Jongdae’s boots stepped into your field of vision, and before you could react, his thumb and index finger gripped your chin tightly. He forced you to look up at him, causing you to release a short gasp.

 

To your surprise, he didn’t speak. His amber eyes simply continued to pierce your own in silence, as though he was searching for something. He narrowed his eyes, and you could feel your lungs tighten under the silent interrogation.

 

This moment continued much longer than you felt necessary, yet you didn’t dare speak.

 

Then, abruptly breaking the haunting connection between the two of you, a rushed knock sounded at the door.

 

Jongdae immediately released your chin, his gaze darting to the door in annoyance. Slowly, he pulled away from you, walking towards the door to answer it. You took this moment to release the breath you had been holding in.

 

 _What was that?_  You clutched the fabric of your dress near your heart.

 

“What do you want, Chanyeol?” Jongdae was very clearly holding a grudge for being interrupted.

 

Curiosity got the better of you, and you turned around to eye the door. It was cracked just enough for Jongdae to fit his head through.

 

“Jongin says you’re back.” A deep, rustic voice sounded on the other side of the door. “I was wondering if you were interested in going for a quick feed before dawn.”

 

“Not interested.” Jongdae dismissed him.

 

“I know it’s been over a month since you’ve fed, Jongdae. It has to have started burning by n-” Chanyeol’s words were cut off, leaving only silence for several seconds. “Wait a minute.”

 

“Chanyeol I said-”

 

“I smell  _human_.” Chanyeol’s tone became dark, and significantly more serious. “There isn’t-… There can’t-… You wouldn’t-”

 

There was a short moment of silence.

 

“Oh my God, you have a human in there, don’t you?” Chanyeol sounded incredulous. “I didn’t believe Jongin when he said you had finally gotten yourself a whore…” He trailed off. “But you really did it, didn’t you?”

 

You could hear Jongdae release an inhuman growl from across the room.

 

“You’re sharing, right?” Chanyeol questioned, pausing slightly. “Oh  _God_ , she smells  _amazing_ , Jongdae. Where did you find her?”

 

“Leave, Chanyeol.”

 

“Oh come on, Jongdae, lighten up.” Chanyeol mused. “I’ll help you break her in. Come on, neither of us have fed in so long. ”

 

“Then let’s go.” Jongdae spoke in monotone, and you watched as he slipped through the door to the other side, shutting it behind him. “You said you wanted to step out for a feed.”

 

You heard an exasperated sigh from behind the door.

 

Chanyeol whined “You’re such a killjoy.”

 

And after that, nothing.

 

You waited for a response. A voice. Rustling. Anything.

 

Yet only silence permeated the space around you.

 

They had left.

 

You heaved in a breath, more in release of the pressure that had been building in your lungs than of relief. Now that you were alone, your mind was alerted to your surroundings: Jongdae’s room. It wasn’t as large as you thought when you had walked in, but was still more spacious than any other room you had laid eyes on. A large, canopied bed was pressed up against the side wall. A double-paned glass window was on the wall directly across from the door, accompanied by a large desk and chair. To your left were double doors that, upon inspection, led to a very spacious master bathroom. Nearly everything inside was made of stone or marble, smoothed and polished in a way that resembled glass.

 

Your mind was so transfixed on taking in the regality of your surroundings, that when you heard the doorknob click and turn, you nearly leapt out of your skin.

 

 _I should’ve stayed in place._ Your mind was frantic as you resumed your position in the middle of the bedroom, watching the door slowly open.  _Jongdae must be-_

 

When your eyes met the face of who entered, however, a foreign sense of terror overtook your entire being.

 

It wasn’t Jongdae.

 

It was the other member of the Coven, the one who had offered to buy you in place of Jongdae.

 

The one with the sickening, twisted grin.

 

Immediately you began to walk backwards, shuffling until your back was pressed up against the cold wall.

 

“My, my, my.” The vampire gave a quick  _tsk-tsk,_  looking you up and down several times. “He actually went through with it.”

 

This vampire was taller and leaner than Jongdae, and carried with him an aura that forbade death.

 

He began to stalk towards you, his hands behind his back as he walked at a leisurely pace. He was quite obviously amused with himself, the familiar, malicious grin on his face making your blood freeze. Looking down at the desk beside you, your eyes fell upon a wrought candlestick.

 

The vampire’s eyes were quicker, however, and as you raised the candlestick in a pitiful attempt to defend yourself, he whizzed across the room with inhuman dexterity. In the blink of an eye, he had grabbed both the wrist that held the candlestick and the one that had been clutching the curtain behind you, lifting them above your head and slamming them against the wall harshly.

 

You let out a cry in both shock and pain.

 

His body was pressed up against yours now, his scarlet eyes flashing as he licked his lips, looking down at you with predatory intent.

 

“He actually went through with it.” His smirk deepened. “I didn’t expect him to care so much for such a little thing.”

 

Realizing that this was someone with a very different intent than Jongdae, you began to struggle against his hold on you. Even though you knew your feeble attempts would do little other than amuse him, your instinct was screaming at you to get away, kicking and screaming if need be.

 

“The feisty little virgin from the whorehouse.” The vampire tilted his head. “Not so brave now, are we?”

 

Your nails dug painfully into the skin of your palms as Sehun pressed himself against you, his face quick to tuck itself below your ear. Keeping your hands firmly in place above you with one of his own, you shuddered as you felt his cold fingers ghost across your knee, traversing upwards. Suddenly, Sehun’s fingers clasped tightly, painfully around the tender skin of your thigh, a growl erupting from his throat as he did so. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from giving him the reaction he wanted-  _fear_.

 

“If I could take you right now, like this, marking you before he even got a chance.” Sehun’s breath against your eardrums made your skin crawl. “Do you think our straight-laced loverboy might be…  _upset_?”

 

His fingertips trailed higher. You squeezed your eyes shut.

 

A chuckle. “I think he would be deliciously  _furious_.”

 

And then, as soon as it began, the presence of Sehun’s advances froze.

 

Silence.

 

You felt Sehun’s smile against the fragile skin of your neck.

 

“Come to watch the show, Jongdae?” Sehun’s amused threat hung low in the air. “Or will you shake things up this afternoon and choose to participate in the fun yourself?”

 

A crash sounded at the far side of the room as porcelain dishes hanging on the walls shattered. You flung your eyes open to find Sehun’s suffocating presence no longer trapping you in place.

 

Instead, he was pinned up against the far wall, his feet dangling in the air as a firm hand was wrapped around his throat.

 

There stood Jongdae, a growl resounding throughout the room with enough intensity to vibrate your ribcage.

 

He wore only his white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, along with soiled black dress pants. Though you could only see his back, there was no hiding the red stains that littered the purity of his once-unblemished shirt.

 

“I would ask what you’re doing here if I didn’t already know the answer.” Jongdae’s voice left no room for excuses.

 

“Protective of your little whore, are we?” Sehun choked out, still smirking. “You should know better then, than to leave your little lamb unattended in the lions’ den.”

 

“If I had known you returned from scanning reported activity on the other side of the mountain so quickly,” Jongdae tightened his grip around Sehun’s throat. “I would’ve snapped both of your wrists before you came anywhere close.”

 

“So much effort for so small a thing.” Sehun tilted his head. “I can’t remember the last time you held this much interest in any one object. She can’t mean that much to you.”

 

“Regardless of how much she is worth to me,” Jongdae snarled. “She is  _mine_.”

 

You swallowed, your throat dry and solid.

 

“If you dare lay a hand on her, I swear to the pits of hell from which you slithered out of, I  _will_  destroy you. I will take pleasure in having an excuse to rip you apart  _piece_ by  _piece_.”

 

Sehun gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed and tense.

 

“Leave.”

 

The power Jongdae held in a single word shook you to your core, your very bones shaking in fear of his authority.

 

He released Sehun’s neck, his gaze refusing to wander in case the aggressor should try anything else.

 

“Just remember, Jongdae.” Sehun rubbed the raw skin of his throat. “You know there is nothing you can do if she remains unmarked.”

 

His corrosive eyes met yours, locking into your heartbeat until it was the only thing you could hear. His sickening, signature smirk sure to brand itself into the darkest parts of your dreams.

 

And just like that, Sehun’s presence vanished, the unmarried tension in the air still laying thick.

 

Silence was the only third party between you and Jongdae now, and though you felt irrevocable relief that Sehun had left, something about Jongdae’s rigid structure left your hair standing on end. You were too scared to breathe, let alone move from your position against the far wall, your fingers still clutched around the rough window curtains.

 

After what felt like hours of unperturbed quiet, Jongdae’s breathless sigh reached your ears. Your eyes traversed down to his hands, which were clenched hard enough for the veins across his skin to become noticeably swollen.

 

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat.

 

“I don’t  _fucking_  have time for this.” His tone was brutally harsh, though his words remained quite quiet. You couldn’t tell if what he spoke was directed at himself, or to you. “Though it’s only temporary…”

 

He sighed once more, turning around slowly.

 

Your gazes met; one of silent, frozen fear, and the other of stone cold determination.

 

“This will work for now.”

 

In less time than it took to blink, Jongdae was there, his body mere inches from your own.

 

You didn’t have time to think, to react, to even finish sucking in the cold gasp of air as breath filled your lungs.

 

Searing, needle-like pain resounded through your entire being as you felt the thin skin of your throat puncture. A cold hand came up almost simultaneously to grasp the back of your neck in support.

 

You don’t remember releasing the ear-splitting scream that filled the room.

 

You don’t remember much of anything a mere second after you let it out.

 

Because, before you had time to fully understand what Jongdae was doing- or rather- taking from you,

 

You had lost consciousness.

 

 

* * *

 

 

With the same ambiguity with which you had blacked out, your consciousness reentered the grim, bitter world.

 

There was a deafening ringing in your ears.

 

The time of day, hours that had passed, and condition of your body remained a mystery to you. Every limb felt as though it weighed of lead. You pushed your eyelids open, the familiar, dim yellow light of Jongdae’s room flooding your senses. As you attempted to sit up, searing pain shot from your neck to the rest of your nervous system. You quickly brought your hand up to the spot, fingertips lightly brushing across the soft bandage that covered the wound. Applying pressure to the gauzed area, you pushed yourself to sit up. The room spun around you, an imbalance that overtook your senses as you shuffled off of the large, plush bed you had been laid down on.

 

Stumbling across the carpeted floors, you managed to reach the ornate wooden door. You rested your weight against the doorknob, pausing a moment to take in several, shuddering breaths.

 

Gathering what shreds remained of your courage, you twisted the knob, the door creaking open.

 

Blood. Adrenaline. Fear. Those concepts were foreign to you at this moment.

 

Survival was the only thing pumping through your veins.

 

Looking out across the balcony, you realized how massive the grounds of the Coven’s estate truly was. Where you had expected to see at least one living- or rather, non-living soul- however, there were none to be found. You knew how dangerous it was to be lurking about, yet you couldn’t imagine laying motionless on Jongdae’s bed being a much safer option. You walked lethargically through the halls, down each winding staircase, turning around every corner. And yet, there was no one.

 

Eventually, you found yourself at the great entrance hall, long tapestries adorning the hundred-foot tall paned glass windows that were on either side of the enormous marble door.

 

Using every ounce of strength you had, you braced your feet on the hardwood floors, prying the metal handle back to open the gates of freedom.

 

Grey light blinded you through the crack as your body slid through, your eyes squinting. The outside grounds, though ornate in detail, had become decayed with frost and time. Hedges and iron statues twisted together to decorate a place that would only appear in children’s nightmares.

 

Expecting the hounds of hell to be upon you at any one moment, and determined to see how far you could make it out alive, you pushed forward. The cold, dead leaves stuck to your wet feet as you descended the concrete slabs towards the exiting gate.

 

Judging by how dark the clouds had gathered at the corners of the horizon, night could have been a few hours, or as much as half a day away. As you passed through the crack in the wrought iron gate, the vantage point the Coven’s estate had given you allowed you to see all the way down the mountainside. Peering above the grotesque, black pines of the forest, you could make out the dim lights of the town.

 

Could you even go back, now? And if so, to what?

 

Thunder echoed in the cursed heavens above you, bringing you back to the present reality of your attempted escape.

 

You didn’t care what happened when you returned to Ebonmire. The adrenaline in your system was feeding you one goal at a time, and right now, it was finding a way to put as much distance between the Coven and your incomparably frail body.

 

As the chilled wind swept through the trees and across your pale skin, you took a shuddering breath in, and began the descent towards the outermost skirts of hell.

 

 

* * *

 

 

An indiscernible amount of time had passed since you left the mansion, though it felt like days. The dehydration your body was experiencing was becoming more and more prevalent with every minute that passed. Every fiber of your being felt brittle and dry; your lips too cracked and sensitive to be pressed together. The skin at the bottom your feet wore thin, bruises and blisters forming with every broken step you took.

 

Pausing to regain your balance, you looking up at the sky, peering past the jagged black lines of the pine trees.

 

Grey.

 

That was all you could see.

 

Black.

 

And grey.

 

Without any further direction, and the topography of the mountain no longer slanting downward, you realized how truly helpless you were in your current state.

 

Lost- stumbling blindly through the woods, with only the immediate desire for water running through your brain.

 

Thunder rumbled and reverberated across the wooden labyrinth, leaves crinkling under your feet with the succession of every weakened step.

 

How much longer would you make it?

 

How much farther would you go?

 

It was almost comedic how one-track minded your entire essence had become. Something as simple as water taking up every ounce of need and consciousness you could possess. Something as simple as…

 

You paused mid-step.

 

Without caring if it was simply your dehydrated mind playing tricks on you, your body acted on impulse, carrying you with newfound endurance towards the sound you might have heard.

 

The rustling.

 

The waves.

 

It grew louder.

 

Soon, the sound of rushing water grew deafening, and you knew you had breached the possibility of hallucination.

 

Breaking through the last line of trees, you found yourself at a riverbed. A waterfall cascading hundreds of tons of force behind its exodus of white foam. The black, jagged rocks piercing the swirling liquid and causing it to fall in formless streams into the grey river below.

 

As if on autonomic impulse, your brain carried your lipid body to the shore.

 

Falling to your knees, you immediately began cuping the frozen, clear liquid into your hands, shivering as you brought it to your chapped lips. It burned with the intensity of frostbite as it travelled down your throat, though you cared little about pain at this point.

 

Like a beast ravenous for its first meal in weeks, you continued to drink. For several minutes it was the only thing you knew- cup, drink, repeat… Cup, drink, repeat.

 

The velvet texture of the water as it filled your body with life was unparamount, and you found yourself unable to stop. The rapture of it had absorbed your mind, survival giving your senses a new lense to look through. Intense enough for you to forget your surroundings.

 

Intense enough for you not to notice the change in the water’s color.

 

The metallic change in its taste.

 

You froze, shivering as you paused to look down at your hands.

 

Red.

 

The water had turned red.

 

Gasping, you stumbled backwards, the cold, heavy air to your lungs causing your rib cage to expand and contract frantically.

 

Slowly, you gaze travelled upwards, panning up from the soiled riverbed to the edges of the river itself.

 

It took you a minute to process what it was you were seeing; white wisps littered the water as it continued to flow. Wisps of different colors seemed to be attached, pale limbs jutting out from the cloth.

 

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

 

Bodies.

 

The river was being filled with the bodies of dead girls, dozens of them, their twisted frames falling from the heights of the waterfall and pooling together as the river carried them through in silence.

 

Blood. It was  _blood_.

 

The river was filling with  _blood_.

 

 _Their_  blood.

 

You felt upheaval in your stomach, though with no food or sustenance to regurgitate, all you felt was acid at the back of your throat.

 

Not bearing to look at the nightmarish scene any longer, you turned over your shoulder and ran. Pushing past the knife-like branches of the wilderness, you had hoped that the faster you ran, the farther away that sight would be from your subconscious.

 

But it was too late.

 

The image was burned into place, branded there with no hope of escape.

 

The world was spinning around you now, air not passing through your lungs. Your vision grew black, and the last sensation you experience before falling into the darkness entirely was the feeling of snowflakes prickling the hairs on your arm.

 

You collapsed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The closing of the marble door to the estate echoed throughout the hallways.

 

“Another day, another mess to clean up.” Jongin sighed. “The last time there was that much blood, we had to clear out an entire church.”

 

“A shame so many of those girls had to be dead.” Sehun mused, hanging his coat on the banister. “They would have been lovely to add to my collection.”

 

“ _Please_ ,” Baekhyun hissed. “We all know they don’t have to be alive for you to stick your-”

 

“That’s enough.” Junmyeon silenced the group as he shook the snow off of his coat. “It was a tiresome enough day to drag the whole lot of you to a false lead. You can bite at each other’s throats when I’m not around to hear it.”

 

“Speaking  _of_.” A grin weaseled its way to Sehun’s face as he nudged Jongdae in the arm, who was kicking the snow off of his boots. “Where is your little pet?”

 

“Why should I care.” Jongdae’s straight expression mirrored his apathy.

 

“If you brought it you’re responsible for it.” Jongin chimed in.

 

“She’s been out for two days since I marked her.” Jongdae grabbed the handkerchief from his coat pocket, attempting to wipe the blood stains from his hands. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s immobile for another three.”

 

“Even so,” Sehun sat himself down on the nearest leather chair exasperatedly, placing his hands behind his head in leisure. “You know what you’ve done is only temporary.”

 

Jongdae’s jaw clenched, though he gave no response. Instead, he turned towards the study, opting to ignore Sehun’s presence entirely.

 

Sehun frowned, and in a flash he was gone.

 

Jongdae opened the door to the study, looking each shelf over top to bottom in search of something. After pulling several files from their dusted rest, he sat down at the marbled desk nearby. Zoning in on his objective, he began sorting through the papers, images, and evidence in each of the files.

 

“She’s gone, you know.”

 

Sehun was leaning against the doorpost, his arms crossed.

 

“I peeked inside the room to find the poor thing had scampered off somewhere.” He mused. “That, or something else got to her before you did.”

 

Jongdae ignored him, focusing on the spread of paperwork before him on the desktop.

 

“You know I’m right.” Sehun scoffed. “You’re the one that marked her, yet you can’t smell her presence, can you?”

 

Again, Sehun was met with silence.

 

He clicked his tongue, biting the inside of his cheek.

 

“You know she won’t last long out there. Not in this weather.”

 

“Good riddance.” Jongdae spoke softly, apathy laced in his tone like poison. “I don’t know why I bothered with her in the first place.”

 

“So,” Sehun grinned. “You don’t care if she dies, do you?”

 

Jongdae’s fingers froze on the page he was skimming.

 

“No.”

 

He stood to his feet, brushing past Sehun with a cold expression lingering on his face.

 

“Why would I?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The sound of howls grew louder.

 

Five. Ten. Twelve. Twenty.

 

The number no longer mattered, only finding a way to escape them.

 

The snow was up to your ankles now, the wind pushing it past the tops of the trees and down into your eyes. Night had fallen, and now, only shadows of a once distinguishable terrain were left visible to the naked eye.

 

Another chorus of howls echoed. They were getting closer.

 

You continued to run, looking in vain for a tree that was short enough to climb.

 

You could hear their barks now; ravenous, with the intent to leave no trace of their prey behind when they had finished.

 

Thinking quickly, you grabbed a thick, knobbed tree branch from the ground, clutching it tightly between your numb knuckles as the barks and howls grew louder. Your time was running out.

 

You saw them. Flashes across the corners of your vision, shadows that stalked just beyond your eyesight.

 

 _So, this is how it is to end_. You thought.  _Escape from the clutches of one beast merely to have my demise at the jaws of another._

The howls grew into a deafening intensity.

 

Then, the attack began.

 

The first wolf dashed into the clearing, leaping across the snow with determination to kill. Winding up as it approached, you brought the wooden club down on its head as hard as you could.

 

The beast whimpered, staggering off into the wood.

 

Another wolf came just behind it, this time successfully wrapping its jaws around your arm and shoving you to the ground. It bit down, the teeth puncturing your tender flesh as you cried out in pain. Seeing your incapacitated state, another wolf joined in, its jaws crunching down on your leg and shaking back and forth violently.

 

Clinging to survival, you grabbed the club you had dropped with your other hand, hitting the first wolf as close to its eye as you could. With limited success, it backed off, giving you enough time to bring the stick down hard on its muzzle. With a whimper, it limped away, leaving you in a desperate struggle with the wolf currently gnawing on your ankle.

 

Using what you thought to be the last of your energy, you hit the beast several times, again and again, praying to any deity listening for it to relinquish its hold on you. As blood dripped into the wolf’s eye, it snarled, sprinting back to the edges of the trees to rejoin the others.

 

They were toying with you.

 

Testing you to see how weak you truly were.

 

And now, seeing as how there were dozens of glowing eyes gathered in the darkness before you, they seemed confident with the results.

 

Trembling, you clutched the stick at your side, refusing to go down without a fight.

 

Growls, snarls, and howls mixed with the adrenaline pumping through your eardrums, crescendoing until it reached a cacophonous peak.

 

Suddenly, a shadow flashed before your field of vision.

 

A dark figure now hovered above the bloodied snow that surrounded your contorted frame.

 

And then- as though the world fell deaf-  _silence_

 

Where a dozen pairs of frighteningly hungry, orange eyes once locked onto their wounded target in gluttony, they now wavered, their gazes trembling with newfound terror.

 

Because now the wolves were not alone; an intimidating, supreme presence now confronting them.

 

Eyes a most vicious shade of red.

 

A pair more bloodthirsty than their own.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!! Thanks so much for putting up with my shenanigans and hiatus for such a long time. Now that I’m at college I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be able to update but it’s my guess that I’ll have bigger chunks of free time to write!! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter- definitely one of the most intense I’ve written. Maybe I’ve still got it, maybe not XD
> 
> Love you guys!!
> 
> ~Nunchi

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr too [@nunchiwrites](https://nunchiwrites.tumblr.com)!!


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